


Lights Off

by Circadienne



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:32:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Circadienne/pseuds/Circadienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a story about two people with limited social skills getting laid.  Episode coda, of sorts, for <i>The Stork Job</i>; minimal spoilers for that ep.  With thanks to <a href="http://amaliedageek.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://amaliedageek.livejournal.com/"><b>amaliedageek</b></a> and <a href="http://cofax7.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://cofax7.livejournal.com/"><b>cofax7</b></a> for laughing at me and telling me to post the thing already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights Off

Alec has always been a sound sleeper — he had to be, growing up in a house with that many kids — so it takes him a while to wake up enough to realize that there is someone in the bed with him.

He doesn't fall, exactly. It's more that he's already started to jump out of bed and make a panicked run for the door when he realizes that he knows who it is. The noises he makes as he tips off the mattress, cracks his head on the hotel nightstand, and lands hard on the floor are really very restrained, under the circumstances.

Parker's head appears over the side of the bed. "What are you doing?"

"What am I —" He reaches back and pokes gingerly at the back of his head. No blood, but ow. "I'm lying on the floor in my damn shorts, is what I'm doing. Has nobody ever taught you how to knock?"

She rolls her eyes.

He tugs his leg out of the blanket he's tangled in and staggers to his feet, rubbing his head. "Can I help you with something?"

Okay, that probably came out a little more hostile than he meant it to, because she isn't looking at him any more. She's looking at the wall. The only thing the wall has going for it is a painting of a palm tree.

He waits for a minute. The palm tree is apparently a lot better-looking than he is. In his underwear. Well, that's flattering. "Parker?" he tries.

"Hmm?" She's still not looking at him.

He takes a deep breath. "Is everything okay?"

"Mmhm."

"Then —" Alec stops, waits to see if she's going to explain, isn't really surprised when she doesn't. "Why are you here, exactly?"

There is a long, long pause, and he's watching her but he's also trying to remember where he put his jeans. If it's taking her this long to spit it out, it's going to take him even longer to fix it, and for that? He wants pants. He deserves pants.

She finally says, "I, um."

"You um?"

There they are. He grabs his jeans off of the overstuffed chair in the corner and is turning them right side out when Parker says, in a rush, "Nobody's ever blown up a building for me before, and I, uh, I really liked it. I mean, I really, really liked it." And then she gives him one of those smiles, those really evil gleeful smiles, and he's grinning right back at her and thanking God that he has something to hold over his crotch.

"I, I'm happy to do it," he says. "Not that I can, you know, every day, it's not like that, because the circumstances do not present themselves, and if I did —" He's babbling. That's not good.

She nods, not seeming to notice that he's completely stupid. "There would be problems."

"Exactly. Problems. People would notice. But, ah, if I could, or if there's anything else I can —" He gestures, with the hand that isn't holding his pants, in a way which he hopes will indicate that he would demolish buildings right and left for her, were the world not as it is.

She's smirking at him. "I was hoping we could fuck."

Alec always thought that thing about jaws dropping was a figure of speech, but it takes an actual physical effort to shut his mouth. He makes a series of incoherent sounds and there's a certain amount of fumbling and the next time he's really clear on what's happening, they're on the bed and Parker's biting his shoulder. He likes it. A lot.

She's wearing way too many clothes, and also her sneakers are still on — he gets his hand around one ankle and tugs, but he's too busy kissing to really focus on it — and it's a great thing, a wonderful thing, that he can just peel her out of her t-shirt, except that he has to break away from her mouth to do it and when he does he realizes that she's laughing at him.

"What?" he pants.

"I didn't really know you did this sort of thing."

"Undress beautiful women? Not every day, no. This is a really good day."

"Except for going through customs." She frowns a little.

He is going to have to do a training about how you really cannot expect to fake out the dogs, but he so does not want to be thinking about that now. "Except for that, yes." Alec manages to unhook her bra one-handed and feels pretty good about that, especially when she pulls it off and drops it over the side of the bed and he can put his face between her breasts.

She must have done some sort of disappearing act with her shoes, because she's using her toes to pull his shorts over his hips, and oh, my, her hands are warm. He takes his mouth off her nipple just long enough to mutter, "Not fair."

"What?"

"You've still got your pants on." He gets the button undone but can't get them down, and she pushes back from him just long enough to wriggle out of them. "Are you on something?" he asks.

"What, like drugs?"

"No, like the pill."

"Oh. Nah. Here," she says, bends over the side of the bed and rummages through her clothes — that's a nice view — and comes up with a little square packet.

"You were so sure —" Alec stops, realizing what a very bad idea it is to say it out loud.

She glances at him, pushes her bangs out of her face. "You blew up a building for me."

"Right." Okay, he did sort of — yeah. Well, it's not like flowers would have worked, and this obviously did. He takes a deep breath and tips Parker back onto the pillows.

He's not surprised when she shrieks, a couple minutes later — he's got most of one hand in her and his mouth on her neck, she should be making some noise — but the giggling is a little unsettling. She makes up for it, though, when she rolls him onto his back. He didn't think he could get harder, but this thing where she's strong enough to push him around? Apparently he likes that, too.

He wonders, just for a second, what other job skills of hers are applicable, has a moment where he's considering Parker and ropes — and then she's got her mouth on him and a hand wrapped around his balls and he's so busy trying not to embarass himself that all he's letting himself think about is peanut butter sandwiches and his tenth grade computer science teacher. Nothing less sexy than peanut butter and Mr. Harlinger, the Nose Hair King.

She pulls back and asks, "What did you say?" and Alec realizes he's been muttering the old guy's name under his breath in an effort to stave off premature ejaculation. He is, perhaps, the biggest idiot the world has ever known.

"Nothing. No, really nothing," he says, trying to sound reassuring, absolutely certain that he should not explain. Premature ejaculation is suddenly not so much of an issue. His dick is not going anywhere under the crushing weight of his humiliation, thank you.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No! It's just that I would really, really, like to — and if you keep on doing that — I —" he waves one hand, weakly.

She grins and tears open the condom packet with her teeth, and he says, "Where have you been keeping that?" because she is completely naked and he knows for damn sure it hasn't been in any of the not-so-obvious places.

"Trade secret," Parker says, rolling it onto him.

Alec lasts longer than he thought he could, back and forth and sweating and pushing and kissing until she's giggling again. That sets him off. He gasps, buries his face in her shoulder, and his hips thump forward against her ass, one, two, three, four and that's it, he's there and it's so sweet.

He clutches her hipbone, exhales slowly, and kisses the side of her neck. Tries to be discreet, pitching the condom in the trash, and probably fails but he doesn't really give a shit when she smiles at him lazily, lets him spoon up behind her and draw the fuzzy hotel blanket up over them both.

"Thank you," he murmurs into her hair, and she hums back at him contentedly.

Alec's not surprised when he wakes up the next morning with a pillow, rather than a woman, tucked under his arm. Disappointed, yes. Still a little sticky. Smelling like sex, like her, and no, he sure does not want to hear what any of his, ah, colleagues would say about that. He heaves a sigh, pushes the pillow away, and heads for the bathroom.

He does have a little moment in the shower when he's sure she's run off to Bolivia or wherever rather than ever see him again. Then he gets over himself and decides not to be stupid. She's probably just getting breakfast.

And, well, it's not like he can't find her. If he gets worried.

She has to know that. He thinks she might even sort of like the idea.

He tips his head back under the spray and grins.


End file.
